Margaret was troubled because of Lynn’s disbelief in himself. His sunny self-confidence was apparently put to rout by this new phase. Then she remembered that they had all passed through a time of stress, that Lynn, strong and self-reliant as he had been, must have felt it, too, and, moreover, the artistic temperament in itself was inclined to various eccentricities.
Of his future, she never for one moment had any doubt. It was her heart’s desire that Lynn should be an artist. Looking back upon her life and upon all that she had suffered, she saw this one boon as full compensation—as her just due. If this bone of her bone and flesh of her flesh might wear the laurel crown of the great, she would be content—would not begrudge the price which she had paid for it.
She smiled ironically at the thought that, while credit was given to some, she had been compelled to pay in advance. “It does not matter,” she mused, “we must all pay, and it may be all the sweeter because I know that no further payment will be demanded.”
She was thinking of it when she fell asleep, and in her dream she stood at a counter with a great throng of people, pushing and jostling.
Behind the counter was one in the form of a man who appeared to be an angel. His face was serene and calm; he seemed far removed from the passions which swayed the multitude. He conducted his business without hurry or fret, and all the pushing availed nothing. His voice was clear and high, and had in it a sense of finality. No one questioned him, though many went away grumbling.
“You have come to buy wealth?” he asked. “We have it for sale, but the price of it is your peace of mind. For knowledge, we ask human sympathy; if you take much of it, you lose the capacity to feel with your fellow men. If you take beauty, you must give up your right to love, and take the risk of an ignoble passion in its place. If you want fame, you must pay the price of eternal loneliness. For love, you must give self-surrender, and take the hurts of it without complaining. For health, you pay in self-denial and right living. Yes, you may take what you like, and the bill will be collected later, but there is no exchange, and you must buy something. Take as long as you wish to choose, but you must buy and you must pay.”
Margaret awoke with his voice thundering in her ears: “You must buy and you must pay.” The dream was extraordinarily vivid, and it seemed as though someone shared it with her. It was difficult to believe that it had not actually happened.